


A storm raging inside and out

by LordFlausch



Series: Iron Dragon [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post-argument, Prequel to "It's been a while", SO PREPARE, au-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 03:12:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12026892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordFlausch/pseuds/LordFlausch
Summary: Yara sails away from King's Landing after an argument with Daenerys. Things take an unexpected turn. Prequel to "It's been a while"





	A storm raging inside and out

**Author's Note:**

> Those who read the first work probably know what's to come. I apologize for any OOC-ness.

Her grip is iron on the steering wheel, hundreds of thousands of thoughts in her head but none are quite graspable or only make sense if she manages to catch them. She doesn't feel the wind on her face, doesn't smell the sea. She feels alone and cold. She remembers how her shoes sounded in the halls of the Red Keep, how her rage mixed with something else. She remembers how she felt her eyes a little unusual and how she blinked. Still, she feels odd and fights something back, but she doesn't even know what it is.

“Captain?”

She looks at the sailor who dared speak to her, and there must be something in her gaze that makes him back away and bow.

“Sorry for interrupting ye, but a storm's comin' up.”

“We will go on our route as planned.”

“Aye, if ye say, captain. But ye should probably get some rest. Ye know. Stood up there since we've left and that've been 10 hours.”

“I see no reason to.”

“Please, captain. Listen to ye mate. We'll need ye fully rested for da storm.”

She sighs. 

“Fine. You take the wheel.”

“It'll be my honor, captain.”

She goes down into the ship and her own cabin, decorated with goods she stole during the years where the Ironborn were not ass honorable as they are now. Daenerys' and her pact really had changed something. It was hard whipping them from ravaging pirates into the respectable tradesmen, fishers and partially farmers they are today, but she managed. And her Dragon Queen did lend a hand when she asked for it, coming over on her dragon and making sure it all went nicely. She was feared and loved on the Iron Isles... a ruler just like you would want one.  
Yara shakes her head when other memories come up, memories of riding a Dragon once or twice and then it's so-called mother. 

_How Daenerys sat in front of her on Drogon and just looked so inviting... how she had leaned forward, brushed the silvery hair from it's place and dropped a kiss on the queen's neck, making the body in front of her twitch in shock, how Daenerys had gasped and then moaned when her teeth grazed above her pulse point, her hold onto her mount visibly shaking for a moment. Oh how easy it had been to let her hands cup those breasts above the fabric and knead them, rolling the nipples, making more noises escape the Targaryen's mouth. Daenerys had been helpless to her touch, too proud to give in, but feeling too good to demand a stop, still having to focus on steering the dragon, a task Yara made harder and harder for her with every passing second. Especially when one of her hands dipped into the breeches of the queen and rubbed her clit through the underwear, starting light and teasing but then getting rougher and faster with every second while her mouth kept busy on that slender neck and her other hand occupied at her breast. Daenerys had not made a sound, but after a particularly good stroke, she had whimpered and -_

Yara forces her thoughts away from it, even if she feels her body partially burning. She had just left King's Landing with rage. The Breaker of Chains had not wanted to come along because of some petty tournament, otherwise, at this moment, she'd be beneath her. Even when she was angry at Daenerys, a part of her could not deny the attraction, the want for her, and an even smaller part craved the affection displayed after lovemaking, the gentle kisses and soft laughs combined with having the beautiful silver-haired woman in her arms. She remembers the last words she said to her, a yelled form of the feelings she had bottled up. 

_“I've always loved you. Always. From the moment we met, I felt something. And look where it got me. I'm ashamed I ever thought, for just a moment, that you would feel the same.”_

All the gentle loving words she had whispered, in the end, had meant nothing to Daenerys. She probably just was another fling, another lover taken and to be abandoned at some point. She feels dirty for even thinking about that ride now, or anything regarding her queen. And at the same time, she still hopes for the door to her cabin being ripped open and seeing her, standing in all of her glory before sitting on her lap and kissing her, whispering the words she craves to hear. But that is not going to happen.  
She walks over to her bed, letting a hand wander the sheets and chuckling when she notices some of the scratches Daenerys made in the headboard are still there, torn there while Yara had been under her, face between her legs. When she lies down, she imagines smelling a hint of fire and sweetness, that one wine and just... her. But as soon as it's there, it fades.  
Daenerys isn't here and she'll probably never invite her again. The memories she has could be the last ones. She laughs without any humor, and her heart only feels pain. As if stabbed with an arrow. She should've waited and not walked away, took the arm of the Targaryen and looked into her eyes, demanding to know what she felt. Demanding to know what she was. A lover? An amusement? Or more? She lies there for minutes, unable to get rest, unable to get her mind onto anything... and finally, something slips past her eyelid and onto her cheek, rolls down until it hits the sheets. She wipes her face and sees the traces of the tear on her hands.  
Crying? Because of a woman?  
Not a woman.  
The woman she loves. Daenerys Targaryen.  
She doesn't cry any more, but spends her time on the bed, facing the wall, just feeling the pain for a while. The complaints in herself how weak this is are dying down when she comes to a conclusion.  
She would return. Now.  
Yara stands up, striding through her cabin, up on deck where the sailors seem to have some struggles with the wind. Her mate greets her with a smile, offering the steering wheel.

“Storm seems bad. We gotta try to get out. It's directly behind us!”

“No. We will sail back to King's Landing.”

“Why?”

“I forgot something.”

He sends her a knowing smile to which she glares at him, but then, her subordinate looks at the clouds with a worried gaze.

“I'm not sure if we can do it, captain.”

“We have to try. We are Ironborn. Born for this. No storm can hinder us.”

“More like no storm sets between ye and the queen, eh?”

She chuckles, challenge in her eyes.

“Exactly.”

She turns the ship around with the steering wheel, facing the clouds and ignoring the surprised sounds of her crew before shouting new orders.

“We will sail back to King's Landing. I don't care about this storm, we will make it. Reef the main sail but let the small ones for now. Then go down to the rowing deck! Hurry!”

Her orders are followed immediately, and she smiles to the slight surge of power she feels due to that. She catches herself with the thought she's going home now.  
The Iron Dragon, her flagship since a few years prior, moves steadily forward, driven by gusts and squalls as well as her men below deck. She has been in storms before, and instinctively knows what she has to do. When the full force hits her and the ship, she goes further, fighting the wind, fighting the waves, fighting temporary blindness from lightning and deafness from thunder, ignoring the biting rain in her face and on her body, her goal in mind.

Daenerys.

“Captain!”

Her mate shouting against the howling wind gets her attention, and she turns towards him, standing close to her but not too much.

“We gotta reef the other sails! It's too dangerous!”

“No! I've been in worse storms, that one is a small breeze!”

“Captain please!”

She ignores his cries, to stubborn... until she feels the ship being lifted by a wave three times the size of it, raised high up. She knows it will go down eventually and tightens her grip on the wheel. 

“Prepare!”

But before the fall, something worse happens. Lightning strikes the mainmast with a force that she can feel where she stands, stumbling back a bit and tightly gripping the arm of her mate to ensure he won't fall... like the massive wooden pole in the middle of the Iron Dragon. It sways before the lowest part splinters and it breaks, falling sideways onto the ship. She looks in horror as she sees one of her men being buried beneath, his cries of fear suddenly stopping. A moment passes before the boat in itself seems to moan, as it goes down on the wave and crashes onto the ocean surface, still upright, but visibly torn. 

“May the Drowned God have mercy...”

Her subordinate whispers, and she knows only luck determines her survival now. 

“Go below deck.”

Her order is sharp and plain, and he looks at her with a curious, yet still shocked face. 

“What about ye?”

“I'll try to hold the direction. Go.”

“No. I will stick with ye.”

“This is an order.”

“I can't.”

“Go!”

She yells, and he is clearly torn between obeying and staying, but in the end, her sharp gaze and the existing punishment for refusing orders is a threat in itself, so he scurries away. She sighs and holds tight, preparing herself for anything that may come now. Her hair sticks to her forehead as she looks into the sky, hoping to see anything there but clouds. Something with scales and wings, but she knows there won't be. Another lightning flashes and a cloud looks like a dragon, but only for a moment. A black dragon with a white rider. She sighs and breathes calmly, steering against the storm. But her fate is sealed with the wave that crashes on the deck, turning the ship upside down and trapping her below. Her armor is too heavy to swim comfortably, ironic as it was a gift from Daenerys to her. She tries to loosen it but nothing helps. It's stuck. Her rage made her only make hard ties instead of ones easy to loosen and now she pays for that. She rummages on her belt to get the knife, but finds none. Desperately, she tries tearing at the straps but it's futile. She tries swimming upwards but it takes her energy away, energy she doesn't have anymore. Her breath is impossible to do. Blackness takes over her consciousness, slowly, but steadily, and then, she stops moving. Her body lowers closer into the water, and from down here, the lightning looks beautiful as it illuminates the surface she'd never reach again.

_She stroked over the soft skin on the side of the Dragon Queen, felt her press into her and heard her make a somewhat cute noise in her sleep. With a chuckle, she pulled her closer, kissing just below her ear and whispering some words she'd never dare say when they'd both be awake. Even then, it took her a moment to say._

_“You mean a lot to me, Daenerys Targaryen. I can't imagine myself without you anymore.”_

_She laid down again from her position propped up on one elbow and nuzzled into the pale neck in front of her, her hand coming to a stop on the Stormborn's ribcage, just below her breasts. She smirked once when she saw the slightly bruised mark on her shoulder, but then just sighed and closed her eyes._

_“I want to stay like this forever... I want to share my life with you and wake up to you every morning. Fuck you to sleep. Bring you gifts without having to leave. I l-”_

_She paused mid-sentence, not wanting to say those words like this, right now. Instead, she just kissed the skin in front of her face before moving her head up into a more comfortable position, pulling the sleeping dragon against her chest, and smirked when she adjusted her body in sleep, one of her hands casually cupping Yara's breast. She let out a yawn and let her vision fade to blackness of sleep, only comfortable content within her due to the closeness of the woman she loved._

She's sorry that she would never able to meet Daenerys again.


End file.
